Rising Tides
by TheAllisons
Summary: Everything would be so much easier if she stopped struggling and went with the tides, letting the ocean take her. She would drift through the sea like a ghost, die trying to take back what she had lost when she was doomed to fail. She would never get him back. Not in this lifetime. (republished AU)
1. Chapter 1: Do I have a chance?

Emma's feet pounded against the ground, kicking up stones and dirt as they kept in rhythm with her heartbeat.

Stupid! How had that happened. She was seen, and not just by anyone.

She skidded to a halt in front of the stone wall. Two Guards stood on duty at the gate. Both tensed at the sight of her, their hands on the hilts of their swords. There was a cold moment when they took in her sodden breeches and shirt. Her was wet and splattered with mud. Then was a second when Emma was frightened they didn't recognise her, but then the taller of the two relaxed. "_Princess_ Emma..." His voice was heavy with frustration and disapproval, He seemed to be trying to remind her that she was indeed royalty and should act like it.

Usually she would have spoken sharply for him to be silent, but she was and tired, dirty and a little frightened. Though she tried not to let it show. "Graham, let me pass."

He obeyed, though he muttered to her as she strutted past. _"Shouldn't you be at a ball or something?"_

She ignored him. Because he was right, she should already be primped and powdered. Ready to let all the foreign princes and lords inspect her like she was cattle. There was only one man she was interested in. She was terribly afraid he would no longer want her.

Two of Emma's sisters were married... Well, not really Regina, but Emma suspected an engagement would be announced any day now.

Belle had wedded three years ago, to a man who was not entirely in her parents good books. But in the end, they understood why she did such a thing. It was similar to what had happened to them in their younger years.

That left Aurora and Emma.

She had denied she had felt anything for a particular suitor, but would have been stupid to think nobody saw through her pretence. Her suitor as in, prince Philip. They had been friends for some long years and he had been Emma's childhood companion when snow failed at getting her to play with her sisters.

Emma had begun to develop feeling and she was sure he returned them. But after today... he had hardly seen her for three years and was expecting a proper lady. She was meant to grow out of her rule breaking and pants. Obviously she hadn't. Emma had decided because Philip would not be arriving until the next day, to let out a little of her pent up energy by going for a swim in the sea.

She wasn't expecting him to arrive early...

The little boat had rocked in the choppy waves and Emma had tried to stay hidden underwater. But she was tired, and it took effort to keep herself from bubbling to the surface. It hadn't helped to have her pale skin and hair almost glowing in the moonlight.

Anyone else could have mistaken her for a sea creature, a mermaid perhaps... but not Philip, oh no, the moment he saw her a little frown appeared above blue eyes. "Emm-?"

He was cut when Emma dove under, swimming away as fast as she could. Blue grey flashes as fish flitted away from the newcomer. Please don't let him follow me! she screamed silently to herself.

Only roaring silence answered her.

Emma's foot slipped and she almost fell backwards off the stairs. She was saved from this painfully embarrassing fate by Aurora.

"Emma!" Aurora scolded her sister. "You should be ready for the ball!"

Emma looked down and her pants and under shirt. They were soaked and covered with mud and sand. Not to mention her hair. She looked Aurora pleadingly. "Philip's here, he came early."

Aurora looked at Emma's face then at her sodden clothing "Lets go."

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><p>After some quick changing and a rather painful combing of her hair, Aurora persuaded her to wear perfumed oils to hide the smell of the ocean. Even Emma had to agree that it was for the best, her parents would know <em>exactly<em> where she had been. Not to mention all of the guests and court.

"Emma don't run!" Whispered Aurora fiercely. Emma had been taking the stairs two at a time, perhaps trying to make up for the lateness she was arriving. "You will get all red and puffed."

Emma halted, grumbling as she waited for her sister to catch up with her, she seemed to have the pace of an old lady.

Aurora linked arms with Emma, and they both automatically put on wide smiles, one of which looked more alike to a grimace. A lot of Charming and Snow's potential husbands for Emma were either twice her age or younger.

This was going to be a hell of a night.

The noise in the crowded room hushed when they entered, all eyes were on the two princesses late for their own ball.

The room was glowing with candlelight, the long white tables laden with desserts, making Emma realise how much trouble she really was in...

But still, she was_ hungry,_

Just as she was making her escape to the sugary items of food, she heard Charming approaching close behind. It was a familiar clinking of metal studded boots.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I should dedicate myself to arrive on time, and maybe you should write it on my face help me remember." She rolled her eyes as she said it, not caring who saw this unladylike expression. The second bit of the sentence was inspired by Regina's joking about it.

"Uh right, I'll just go then."

He wasn't charming.

It was Philip.

And a man with a curved silver hook for a hand.

"I must say, mate. I like your choice of ladies."

Philip turned turned a shade of maroon, looking highly uncomfortable at his friends remark. Emma was sure she wasn't that much better.

"Hook, please. Not now...?" There was something in his tone that made the man with the hook's grin slide off his face."Very well... I have better things to do with my time anyway." He turned on his heel.

"Emma, could we speak privately?" Philip's full attention was now on her. She felt herself blush even more, hell, if that was possible. The funny thing was, it wasn't because of anything romantic, but she now felt sure she still had mud in her hair. Or worse. "Yes, of course."

Bad move, now he was free to question her about her little escapade to the seaside. She took Philips offered arm, glancing back over her shoulder to see Charming shooting dangerous glares over to where "Hook" was drinking something suspicious out of a flask. Was that the better things that he had to do? Obviously not. How great, Philip had brought a drunk to her ball.

"This way. Emma." Philip guided her towards the garden. The flush of happiness she felt when he said her name for the second time that night was drowned out by her annoyance. He was trying to be the gentleman and take the lead. In her own home!

"I know." She snapped, releasing his arm. "I have lived here all my life." So had he, but that was not going to be mentioned aloud by her.

"I'm sorry." He sat down on the stone seat by the fountain. "I... I am nervous, because of what I am about to confess to you." There was a short silence, and Emma stood stock still, watching as Philip carefully plucked a rose. He rolled the stalk between his fingers for a moment, contemplating what to say."Will you sit by me?" She did. And he offered her the rose.

Suddenly, Emma missed the time when they were the best of friends, when they could run and dive, taunting the guards and breaking the rules. When trivial things like love and marriage didn't matter.

"We were always close." He began, giving Emma a fright. It was almost like he read her thoughts. "But never as much as we are now..."

She highly doubted that, but she managed to hold her tongue.

He coughed uncomfortably, as if sensing her conflicting emotions. "I was never the one for words. That was always Hook... What I mean to say is - what I want to know, Emma, is... Do I have a chance with you? Please don't give me false hope."

"Yes." She said softly, without hesitation. "You do." She had never doubted it. Not for one moment.

He brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it, sending warm tingles shooting up her arm. A slow wide smile was spreading across his face. "Then dance with me."

"If that's what you want, then I will. With pleasure." There was a high note in her voice that had never been there before. It must have been that kiss, making her turn into one of those lovesick fools she always found excruciatingly embarrassing.

Emma managed a lot more dancing than she had thought was possible for a healthy human being, and enjoyed every last one, though she tried not to let it show too much. She caught her fathers eye in a space when she was resting, and he gave her an approving nod. Perhaps he thought she was putting up with the more tedious parts of the night to be a good daughter. It was close enough, so she would go with it. Anything to distract him from the glances Philip and herself had exchanged.

Somehow, letting him know about the conversation that had taken place earlier didn't seem right.

"Tired?"

It was Hook. If she had to call him that, she had no other name to go by. Funny that Philip didn't introduce them.

"Only a little..." She leaned back against the table, watching Philip dance with Aurora. There was a tingle of jealousy, and then, quick as it had come, she shook her head, clearing it."So," She turned to face Hook, perhaps vying for a distraction from that strange feeling. "How do you know Philip?"

He was frowning, but Emma thought she detected amusement in his voice. "Why, am I not surprised that the subject of conversation revolves around your love?"

"My love!" She coughed on the water she had been attempting to down. "What do you mean?"

"There is no need to call me your love, your majesty" He gave her a dramatic bow. "I already have had enough pretty ladies saying that tonight to last me a lifetime."

She scowled. Not caring that it would give her lines. "Bastard."

He grinned.

She was beginning to wonder if it would seem all that unladylike to wipe his face clean with her fist.

Aurora and Philip came to the rescue.

"Perhaps we should go to bed now," Aurora said to Emma as Hook and Philip began a conversation that seemed strangely dull and irrelevant.

Emma suspected that Hook had purposely done it to annoy her.

"Yes," She put her glass down. "Lets excuse ourselves from these last dances, and go early." Funny that she wasn't in the least bit tired, and would likely lie awake for the last precious hours till sun-up. Her mind was buzzing, and she needed to take all of it in.

"Goodnight gentlemen."

She was wrong about not sleeping. It seemed that she was unconscious the moment her head touched her pillow.

That same night she woke with one thought in her head. It seemed very important, like it had been nagging at the back of her mind for hours, but she hadn't realized it.

_I have never liked roses._

**A/N We hope you liked it! We will try to make the chapters longer, but this one was written on a phone way past bed time... MY favourite way;) Please don't forget to leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2: A change of heart

**Chapter 2: A change of heart**

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><p><strong>Hope you like this!<strong>

The first thought that crossed her mind the next morning was that she was dead tired. The second was that Belle and her husband were visiting today.  
>It happened that the latter was the one that forced Emma out of bed. As much as she wanted to roll over and sleep to noon, duty calls. And besides, she suspected grimly that she was already very close to a long lecture from her parents. Even they had their limits.<p>

"You look horrible." Was all Graham said when he saw her.

"Thanks." Emma said dryly. "You are not looking so pretty yourself."

It was true, he looked as though he had scarcely had a wink of sleep in weeks. He probably hadn't, knowing him. He worked so hard, it almost seemed impossible. Sometimes he was just a guard, and then he was off god-knows-where on some mysterious mission. Doing something that Emma was sure everyone was better off not knowing.

"I still think you're overworked." She said, noting the way he shifted uncomfortably at her words.

"Somebody has to keep this kingdom from war." His gaze was now resting by the mountains. He seemed far off, distant. Emma knew he was thinking of the peace and quiet of the woods. It was something understood. She was was guilty herself of loving her alone time. Even Philip was too much for her sometimes.

She had an idea.

"Graham, take a day off. Come with me for a ride before my sister arrives. A chance won't come again anytime soon..." She elbowed him, grinning slyly. "And besides, I might find I will go by myself later. You know I've done it before. If my father hears that you could have stopped me from doing anything stupid by coming with me, but didn't... Well you know what he's like."

He laughed.

Anybody else might have felt threatened by her words. But Graham in some ways knew Emma even better than Philip and her sisters.

"Emma, you know I have more productive ways to spend my time."

"Someone else could handle whatever you have on..." But nobody could as well as Graham. "Please?"

He hesitated for a moment, his sharp eyes assessing her, probably making sure she had no other motives. And then he blew out some air. "Fine, I'll speak to your father. No promises."

Emma squealed, feeling like a child again.

He was going to enjoy the freedom even more than her.

Finally things were going her way.

"Can I bring my bow." She said teasingly. "I want to hunt boar."

"No."

Mostly anyway.

They bickered loudly as they strolled through the woods, leading their horses behind. She was glad for the fresh air and sunshine. Though Emma could see that Graham was tense and ready for action, as if he expected a gang of bloodthirsty thugs to leap out out from the shrubbery.

For once Emma was glad. She couldn't help but feel as if something was wrong... It was a lingering thought that seemed like after-effects of a dream. She shook it off, reminding herself of the good special things in life.

The sun was behind the clouds, so it was rather dark under the shelter of the heavy leaves. But Emma wasn't worried about that, neither was Graham, it seemed. Maybe it was because he knew these woods too well, or maybe, just maybe, someone had distracted him lest they head back early.

Funny that his denial intrigued her so.

"That can't be true!" Emma had said, shocked. The subject happened to have been brought up, and now she was genuinely curious. "Everybody has someone..."

"Not me." He had closed off from her again, his face blank and unreadable. Emma knew him too well to mistake it for something like cold hostility. It was loneliness.

"Don't pity me." He muttered, stepping carefully over a fallen branch. "Pity someone who cares."

"Graham... I-"

"Just drop it, will you." He snapped.

She would have apologized, but then he might take offence, so she tried something different.

"There is only one way to solve this problem... And that is finding someone who DOES care. About you." She looked at him sideways. "I feel like I won't have to look very far."

"What?"

"You already know, don't y-?"

She was cut off by his hand over her mouth.

Instinctively, she bit down. Hard.

He released her, but he didn't look happy. His hand was bleeding,

"What the hell, Emma?" He whispered angrily.

"You grabbed me!" She snarled, grabbing the reins of her startled mare, who was looking ready to make a run for it.

"Shhh!" He hissed. "Listen..."

"Why?" She demanded, still angry.

He didn't answer, but was listening carefully himself.

She heard birds. Lots and lots of them. Was that what he was trying to say? Was he making a point that she was disturbing the peace?  
>And then she heard them. Voices.<p>

_"...We have only just got here.. ...We cant go now... ridiculous."_ That voice. It was familiar.

"Its Philip." Emma elbowed Graham, enjoying the look on his face when he realized he may have overreacted.

He sighed. "Remember... You are a princess. You shouldn't be here, no lady should. Ever. I'm stupid for taking you." He made to step through the bushes, but Emma grabbed him.

"Wait."

She was listening to Philip talk. Something was off.

_"...Dangerous... ...we need to leave..."_ That was a different, slightly familiar voice.

_"I said no! ... know you are getting bored with this place... But I- I want to stay..."_ Philip sounded angry, unlike anything she had ever heard him.

_"...No choice... I know you want to be with Princess Emma... But I'm telling you, its only going to end in tears... Your tears."_ Emma met Graham's eyes, she knew who the second man was. The one who Philip called "Hook."

The bastard.

_"...And besides, you know how woman are. She's after your throne. Of coursed she doesn't want to be your wife... Trust me. I know what I'm talking about..."_

"I'm going to kill him." Emma said almost calmly, in her blind rage. _"I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Him._

"Later." Graham said through gritted teeth, holding onto her arm to make sure she stayed put. "I feel a strange disliking to this man. Will you let me help you with that killing you spoke of, at a later date? I feel like it would be more enjoyable if we bide our time."

The voices were beginning to fade, but Emma's anger wasn't going anywhere.

"There is no better time than NOW!" Emma lurched forwards, but failed at making a escape. "Fine!" She gave up. "Lets go back. I guess that's where they're heading anyway."

For the second time in the last few days Emma found herself rushing to look presentable. Unfortunately, the smell of horse was a lot harder to disguise than the sea. Having to spend that extra time with washing wasn't helping to improve Emma's mood, so whenever something went wrong, the same thought went through her head.

She was going to kill him.

He was telling Philip filthy lies about her. How dare he? She was the last person to want Philip's crown.

Of course Philip knew that. He had known her since they were children... But, now she thought about it, she hadn't actually heard his reply to that rude statement about her. If only she had listened for a moment longer.

Worry ate away at Emma for the rest of the day. So much that by the time the guests had arrived, she was sure she had a angry black cloud hovering over her head.

"Emma..." Regina had peered at her sideways. "Ah, are you al-" She paused, obviously thinking better of it. "We should go and greet them."

Emma was silent, letting her sisters lead the way to the great hall.

There was a small crowd gathered around the visitors.

Belle was smiling widely, looking happier than Emma had ever seen her. Her husband, Rumpelstiltskin, was a different story. He looked out of place, Seeming uncomfortable at the attention.

"Welcome back Belle." Her fathers smile didn't even look a bit strained. That was a change. He too, seemed to be overworking. Funny that.

"Oh father, I am glad to be here again. I must say, I have missed this place." Belle glanced at her husband, a small smile playing on her lips. "Though it took me a while to persuade Rumple to accompany me."

"Not long enough, I think dear."

There was a short moment of silence, and then Snow laughed, taking Belle's arm cheerily, and the air cleared. "If you would excuse us gentlemen. The ladies here would like to help Belle with getting ready for dinner."

Emma tried not to scowl. In other words, it was time for the men to chat and sit around the fire, having fun, while they were squeezed into tight corsets yet again.

She needed to punch someone.

Preferably the bastard, Hook.

"Mother, I have something to say."

"Yes Belle?" They sat around the room, letting dusk fall. It was a rare peace for some. To be able to relax and sew.  
>For Emma... Not so lovely.<p>

"I'm pregnant."

What? Emma was back to reality again in a blink.

"That is wonderful, Belle!" Snow was already across the room, hugging her daughter. "Just wonderful!"

Emma looked across the room to Regina and Aurora. They looked as stunned as her.

"You better catch up soon, Regina." Emma heard herself say, grinning, as she stood to hug Belle too.

"Watch me."

After dinner, the noise level had grown, the music and dancing starting up. Everybody was laughing, happy.

Surprisingly, Emma's good mood had lasted.

She found herself hovering next to Philip, still grinning happily. What before seemed so important to her, no longer was such a big deal. Of COURSE Philip wasn't going to listen to that idiot he called his friend. He was better than that. So much better.

"Emma."

She snapped out of her bubble, focusing on him.

Philip looked awkward. As if he felt someone was listening, but he didn't suggest they go outside, away from the noise.  
>Instead he cleared his throat. "Emma, I'm sorry. But I'm leaving in two days. Something has happened."<p>

"But you will be back?" Her voice sounded unusually high. "Won't you?"

"I'm sorry." He was closing off, turning away, ready to disappear into the crowd. Gone from her life forever. "I can't."

"Where is he?"

That made him pause, looking confused.

"WHERE IS HE?!"

"Who?"

"Bloody Hook!"

"Wh-?"

"Tell me!" She was hysterical now. And a lot of people were staring at her like she had gone mad. Perhaps she had.

"I.. The stables..." He said, still looking confused. "Emma, wait!"

And then she was off, shoving randomly at people who got in her way. Several of them shouted her name after her, but she didn't care.  
>She was outside, marching across the moonlit cobblestones, feeling ready to explode with rage.<p>

Finally, after an eternity, she got to her destination.

The sweet smell of leather and straw hit her as she entered the stables.  
>She blinked, unable to see much for a moment. And then her eyes adjusted.<p>

He was standing next to one of the mares, patting and talking to her. He didn't look up when she swung the door open, though several horses whinnied.

"You!" She pointed a shaky finger at him. And then she was crossing the room in very unladylike long strides.

"What the bloody-" He was cut off when Emma's fist collided with his face. "-hell?"

**A/N Please let us know if you liked it! We LOVE reviews...**


	3. Chapter 3: Time didn't stand still

**Chapter 3: Time didn't stand still**

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><p>"Next time I won't be so merciful." She snarled. Her fist hurt more than she expected.<p>

He was slumped against the wall, rubbing his jaw and quietly swearing under his breath. "Your highness." It came out as a groan. "If it isn't too much too ask, could you please tell me what the hell that was for?"

"Think back, I'm sure you can remember a few things."

"One or two now that I think about it." He said jokingly, straightening up. She could see a red mark on his left cheek that looked to make a lovely bruise. "But none of them I thought would anger you like this." He looked at her sceptically, obviously doubting his own words now that he had experienced her temper.

"Then you were wrong about me."

Emma was aware of the eyes of the stable-hands on her. She glared at them, motioning for them to continue working, though she knew their ears were flapping at every word.

"I guessed."

That triggered something inside her, making her spin around. "You guessed! YOU GUESSED!" She looked at him with disgust. "Next time... Make me the first to hear of your fictional stories. And I would like you to speak to Philip about what you said. If he leaves because of you, I promise - I will make your life a_ living hell_."

And with that she left, slamming the wooden door shut behind her. Her thought were confused and strange, and her head hurt so bad she could hardly see. So even if she was listening, she wouldn't have heard his reply.

But the stable-hands did, and they found it very curious, though they hid it well, for they had a lot practice. But strangely enough, not one of them present went off and gossiped about it with their friends. Perhaps they could relate to what he said.

"It already is a living hell, your highness. It has been for a long time now."

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><p>Later, Emma lay in bed, trying and failing to get some sleep. She was hot and uncomfortable, knowing that if she had dozed off, her dreams would be horrible. So instead it seemed that she went through every tiny detail of her long day. It was hard to think of the good things when she had so many of the opposite to haunt her.<p>

If Philip truly cared for her, then why had he given in to Hook's words so easily?

And why did Hook despise her enough to do such a thing? He couldn't believe his own horrid words about her, could he? Why would he? He didn't even know her.

Unless...

No. Emma rolled over, disturbed at that thought.

Unless he was trying to show her how much she truly was to Philip... But that couldn't be. They two were friends. And if there was one thing she knew about friends, they didn't do such things to each other. She never would to Graham.

There was something else she was missing...

Didn't she and Graham overhear Hook saying something was dangerous? What could be dangerous? He can't have meant her.

Her bruised hand ached in response.

Emma smirked.

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><p>The sun rose slowly, warming the castle until it was considerably more cheerful. She had a quiet breakfast in the parlour with her family. The silence was broken occasionally with polite conversation. She met her father's eye over the table. Noting while she did, that his meal too, was untouched. The look he gave her suggested that the two of them were going to have a nice conversation about her behaviour after they had finished. She didn't care much about whatever he had to say to her at that moment. What bothered her more was that he was worried, and when he was worried, there was trouble.<p>

Emma just wished she knew what was going on, wished that they could trust her enough to tell her.

"So," Said Snow, yet again starting a conversation to prevent things from getting too awkward. "Do you have any ideas of what to name your child?"

Guiltily Emma realized that she had forgotten while she was caught up in her problems.

"Alondra for a girl, and Gabriel for a boy." Said Belle happily, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Beautiful names." Surprisingly, it wasn't Snow that had spoken, but there father. "But if you would excuse me for a moment, I would like to speak to Emma privately."

"Of course."

Emma stood and followed him to the next room, where he closed the door softly behind them to muffle their coming conversation.

"Emma I would like you to tell me the truth..." He said quietly. "Did you punch the man who came here with Prince Philip. The man who they call Hook?"

"Yes I did." She said without hesitation. _And I would do it again,_ she added silently.

"Why?"

"Or rather," Emma hoped she wasn't going too far saying this. "Why _wouldn't_ I?"

"He is a _guest_ in our home, and _you.._ you are a princess." He didn't even sound disappointed, just tired. "I know you don't like him. I don't either, I admit. But that is no call to start being violent. It is not the done thing to attack anyone you think is unpleasant. It's not like he's a criminal." "

She blushed guiltily, regretting it only because it was making things harder on her family. What would people think when they heard about her. Chances were, she would never find a husband with her behaviour. Hook was wrong about her wanting Philip's money. But perhaps he wasn't wrong about her being trouble.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." She bowed her head, hoping it was the truth and she could contain herself.

Her father sighed. "Don't apologize to me, he is the one with the misfortune to cross you." There was the faintest hint of amusement in his blue eyes. "Go talk to_ him_ about it. I'm sure you of all people can come up with a feasible excuse."

"Of course."

"And Emma?"

She paused, her hand on the door. "Yes father?"

"Take another walk with Graham, it might help you to cool down a little. I'm sure Aurora would be very happy to come along too. She hasn't been out much lately."

Emma didn't mention that that was how it all started. She enjoyed walking, and her father might not think it was such a great idea if she told him all about it. "I will."

The first thing she thought as soon as she was away from everybody was, how on earth was she going to apologize to him? He was the one who should be doing that, not _her. _But... She supposed they were supposed to be kinda even now, that was, if he talked to Philip. It wasn't likely that he had, but she didn't even know him... She was starting to think that she knew Philip just as well.

Philip...

How was she going to forgive him? Even if he did change his mind, it just proved how very much he cared. It didn't seem to be all that much after all. Her eyes stung. Annoyed, Emma distracted herself by thinking of what to say as an apology. It only helped because it was so difficult. Eventually, after hanging around the gardens and coming up with nothing, she decided to wing it, and see what happened. After all, it wasn't as if she had much to lose with him. It was then that she realized that she had no idea of where to find him. She didn't even know his real name!

She refused to ask Graham. Obviously everybody already knew what had happened. How else did her father know? So she was saving that beautiful gift of talking to him about it later. This day seemed to get worse and worse. Maybe it would even beat yesterdays one.

Thankfully she was saved the trouble of actually looking for Hook, because she met him in the hall.

He had a large blue and green bruise on his cheek, just as she had predicted. Emma couldn't help but feel satisfied with it. For some reason, she still wanted to hit him.

"Oh... Hello." She said, trying not to meet him in the eyes. "I... I am sorry about yesterday." She lied awkwardly. "I was overreacting, and I shouldn't have hit you." She shifted uncomfortably as he listened. "It won't happen again..."

He waited, an eyebrow raised.

"...And I hope you get better, ah, soon." Not.

He didn't say anything for a long time, and Emma suspected that he was doing it to annoy her.

It worked.

_"WELL?"_ She snapped, unable to stand the silence.

"Ha! I knew it was only a matter of time before you came out. The _real_ you." He frowned for a millisecond. "Your father had you say that, didn't he?"

Emma was silent, biting her tongue to keep it that way.

He then pretended not to notice the absence of her answer. "You really can't have expected me to believe that bunch of lies you just threw at me." He casually leaned against the stone wall, watching servants carry baskets of freshly baked bread past them. "I mean, _"I hope you get better_" isn't really a strong argument, is it? Or even a very good apology actually." He looked thoughtful, casually scratching his chin. "Plus it was obvious that you wanted the opposite of that. You want to punch me again right now. And that isn't even me exaggerating."

"Shut up." She glared at him. "Did you talk to Philip?"

"You figure it out yourself. He's coming this way anyway." And then he was off again.

"No, I don't want to..." _see him._ She finished in her head.

Dammit!. She couldn't even fake an apology. She really needed to learn how to lie.

Funny, she always thought she was good at it. But instead, she was read like a book.

"Emma..." Philip was indeed close by, he looked embarrassed his eyes were on his feet. "Is there somewhere else we can talk?"

Emma struggled to stay angry at him. It was hard to keep that scowl on her face when he looked so sorry. "The garden." She said as coldly as possible.

"Uh... Lets go then." He offered his arm to assist her, which she ignored.  
>"Emma I'm so sorry... About yesterday." He said in a low voice as Emma led him to the gardens. He was a step behind, probably remembering her offence last time. "I regret what I said to you more than you know. And I will regret it every day in my future. That is a promise." He paused as they passed some guards who were on duty by the entrance to the gardens.<p>

It seemed that Philip was a far better liar than Emma.

"Then are you still leaving tomorrow?" She snapped. "Or are you just saying goodbye?"

Philip winced. They stood by the same stone bench as last time. Only neither of them sat down, instead they stood face to face.

"No, I changed my mind..." He avoided her eyes. "Hook will leave tonight, off back home."

"Go with him then. It's not as if anyone here will miss you. I know you want to run away from the danger."

Suddenly Philip was standing still, his fists clenched. "Emma, how do you know about that? Did Hook tell you."

Emma opened her mouth to deny it. And then she realised that she could use it to her advantage. "Yes. He did."

"Then you will understand what's at stake. Emma this isn't a game! If I stay here I put your whole family in danger!" He looked tired too, now that she thought about it. Why did nobody tell her anything? She was always the one left in the dark.

"Why?" It wasn't a single question, but all of her confusion put into one word.

"Wait..." He frowned. "He didn't really tell you did he?" Now he looked worried. "I need to know."

She was silent.

"God Emma!" He looked angry, very angry. He began pacing, his boots kicking up dirt. "No, no, no!" He muttered to himself as he paced. "He knows where I am... He knows where I am!"

"Philip?" Emma said cautiously. Trying not to let her panic rise. "What is it?"

He froze, as if coming to a decision. "Emma," Then he grabbed her hands, squeezing them. "Promise me... Promise me you will marry me when I return."

"Return?" Her voice sounded funny, like it wasn't her own. "What do you mean? I thought you were staying."

"I will be back in a day or two. Please Emma, promise me." He pleaded.

"I... I - Yes... I will."

He kissed her forehead quickly, and then straightened up. "Goodbye."

And then he was gone. Emma didn't see him leave, because her eyes were tearing up. She had sunk to knees, her head in her hands. She had no idea how long she sat like this, but eventually she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

"Princess? Are you all right?"

Emma looked up and recognised one of the palace guards.

"Yes," She wiped her eyes. "I'm fine."

* * *

><p><em>So do whatever it takes<em>  
><em>'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life<em>  
><em>Let nothing stand in your way<em>  
><em>'Cause the hands of time are never on your side<em>

* * *

><p>They were all silent as they climbed the hill, as if there was a shadow hanging in the air.<p>

The wind was salty and blowing hard, and the earth rumbled and shook as the waves pounded the shore. Emma had her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, trying to keep the chill out. Spring was almost over, but there were sometimes strange weather changes.

She should be happy, she was going to marry Philip. It was a dream come true, but still Emma couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It was almost like a bad smell. What was happening under her nose? If only Hook hadn't left yet, then she would ask him, and perhaps gain some more insight on what was going on.

Emma saw Aurora smile weakly at several rabbits bouncing into their holes.

It was really a odd day, Emma kept finding herself sweeping the cliffs with searching looks. It seemed Graham was waiting for something to happen too, but in the end it was Aurora who was the first to see anything of importance.

"Look!" She pointed to somewhere close to the forest. "It's Philip. I... thought you said he was leaving for a few days Emma?"

"Uh huh."

"Someone else is with him." Graham noted. His eyebrows drawn together, looking worried.

Emma couldn't see the second person, and didn't care.

She didn't care about anything except what was unfolding before her eyes.

Philip had crumpled to the ground as if his strings were cut, and it was not too hard too see something that looked horribly like the hilt of a dagger sticking out of his chest. He didn't move after he fell.

He never moved again.

Any screams were lost in the wind, snatched away and never heard.

Time didn't stand still, the waves still crashed and roared. The sun continued its slow descent over the horizon. The seagulls continued their screeching and squabbling over fish carcasses. So why did Emma feel as if everything was over?

Time didn't stand still.

And then Graham was running faster than she thought was possible down the hill, but it was too late. He was gone forever. Even his killer was turning away, looking as if it was no big deal.

As if he did it every day.

It was Hook.

Time didn't stand still.

He was gone by the time Graham got there.

* * *

><p>No time for goodbye he said<br>As he faded away  
>Don't put your life in someone's hands<br>They're bound to steal it away  
>Don't hide your mistakes<br>'Cause they'll find you, burn you

**(A/N) hope you like this:) Please review or follow it makes it seem worthwhile, without it there's not really much point.:)If we get 10 followers the we will upload another chapter today!**


	4. Chapter 4: Run for your life

**Hope you guys like this next chapter!**

_If I stay, it won't be long_  
><em>'Til I'm burning on the inside<em>  
><em>If I go I can only hope<em>  
><em>That I make it to the other side<em>  
><em>If I stay, it won't be long<em>  
><em>'Til I'm burning on the inside<em>  
><em>If I go, and if I go<em>

* * *

><p>Nobody questioned why Hook would do such a thing, nobody stopped to think that it wasn't right. Nothing was right.<p>

Nobody except Aurora. But who would listen to her? They were all caught up in their own little worlds.

_He should have run, he should have listened._ The same thought went through her head over and over. She had been having strange dreams, which were expected after what had happened. Everything now felt like deja vu. Every second of every day, as if she had dreamt of the future but then forgotten.

Nothing was as it seemed. Even what she had seen with her own eyes was a lie. She could feel it, so why couldn't they? They were looking with their eyes and not following instinct.

Philip dying wasn't meant to have happened.

They needed to_ listen. _Even for one moment. Why couldn't she have had a brother? She needed someone to confide in... Someone who understood and didn't think she was raving.

"Father," She pleaded, trying to get his attention as he wrote quick messy writing on a piece of parchment. He hadn't slept, she could tell. He was looking exhausted and worried even before Philip's death. "Please listen, something is wrong. Can't you feel it?"

He didn't look up, or even cease scrawling. He dipped his quill in ink and continued. "Of course I know there is something _wrong_. One of my guests was just _murdered_ on my land. This isn't just a common killing. _This could cause war_."

When Philip's parents heard, who knew what they would do?

War wouldn't actually be surprising. Soldiers had been sent to track down Hook, but who knew where he was going? The blame would fall on her family.

"But..." She trailed off, he wasn't going to listen no matter what she said, because he was right. Maybe she was just imagining things...

Still it continued.

_He should have run, he should have listened._

His body had been carried back to the castle, he had been wrapped in a blanket they had in the saddlebags.

Emma had refused to look at him. She had been white and drained, as if all the life had been sucked out of her. The sun, almost mocking, had peeped out from behind the clouds, almost as if the world felt that the worst was over, and it could bring warmth back.

If only it was that simple.

She didn't even say a word. Not even one quiet word.

It was just _wrong._

* * *

><p>Emma had shut herself in her room, the door locked.<p>

No one tried to make her come out, though Aurora seemed to be trying to tell her something once..._ "Wrong, it is all wrong."_ Emma didn't even care. She couldn't care.

He was gone.

She had seen it happen again and again in her head. It didn't stop. It never stopped. The pain wasn't ever going to stop.

_He didn't move after he fell._

_He never moved again._

She was going to spend the rest of her life with him. And now it was impossible.

Emma screamed into her pillow, not stopping until her throat felt raw.

Time continued when everything was meant to end.

* * *

><p>Graham had spent the last few hours trying to keep everything together. A lot of the guests were panicking. No matter how many times he tried to explain that the killer was gone, and was likely never to come back, they kept arguing with him.<p>

Why did he choose this over a comfortable life away from the fighting and war?

"Listen to me," His patience was now at the breaking point. They didn't want to see him angry. "He has no reason to come back, let alone come back and kill any of _you_."

"When did that stop any murderers?" The flustered Duke muttered, his eyes popping. "The Prince wasn't the only one was he? There were other deaths, before him! How do we know who is next? It could be any one of us..."

Graham glowered. When would it end. Every time he thought he could relax and have no worries, something like this came up. It was like god was against him.

"What would you be doing right now if you were me?" He growled, his teeth clenched. "Don't you think I have already done my best?"

"Maybe it isn't enough!"

But Graham was already storming off. Little did that man know how close he was to being pummelled.

Inches away.

It was true that there were other deaths. They had started about a week ago, spread throughout the city. It was always the same. A dagger to the heart, they weren't connected in any way that he knew of.

It was like someone was trying to scare them.

He thought of the panicking duke. It was sure was working.

The funny thing was, the killing had started before Hook and Prince Philip had arrived. Several days before.

He can't have been the one responsible for the rest of the dying.

And who was "Hook" anyway?

Why was this happening?

Would there be more deaths?

And where was Emma? Was she ever going to come out of hiding?

Time could heal anything he was told a long time ago. He had believed it once. He was foolish... Young and gullible. He had thought the pain of death was when you yourself suffered. Not when others were ripped away from you.

He still felt the pain.

Would it be the same for Emma?

His head hurt.

He was beginning to regret not punching that man. Maybe it wasn't too late?

* * *

><p>When she dreamt of him, it wasn't the grown up him, the one she was going to marry.<p>

It was him as a child. When they had no secrets from each other. Before the distance between them began to grow.

_"Remember me, Emma." He said in her dream. "And don't do anything stupid. Some things aren't as they seem." They were playing in the long grass. Wooden animals were scattered around the flowers, where they would be forgotten about until the gardener found them and returned each one._

_"I don't understand." The child Emma was confused, fiddling with a daisy chain. "Why are you saying that?"_

_The child Philip smiled. "You _will_ understand, when the time is right." He stood up, dropping his toys. "Lets go see if we can have some cake, I'm sure I smell something good."_

_And then they had ran through the sunlit grass, shouting and laughing._

When Emma woke she was curled up in a ball shaking, but feeling different.

Not exactly _better_, just different.

She was no longer going to cry and grieve.

She was angry. It rose and grew inside her until she could no longer stand it. She knew where Hook was going, from the memory of the last conversation she had with... with Philip.

_"Hook will leave tonight, off back home."_

Home.

She knew where Philip lived, she had been there once with her family. She remembered vaguely a kingdom, much like this one, only larger and noisier, with strange colours and different sweets she had never had before.

And then she leapt up wildly, throwing her covers off.

She was dizzy from lack of movement or food, and almost toppled over.

A moment later she was opening her jewellery box and grabbing the most expensive looking bracelets and strings of pearls. She stuffed them into a pillowcase, cleaning all of them out of her drawers. And then her hand hovered over a large ruby on a gold chain.

It was beautiful, shiny and cool, with clean lines. Her parents had given it to her for her seventh birthday, and it was the only jewel she had ever loved.

And then after a split seconds hesitation, she lifted it over her head and tucked it beneath her shirt.

This was the only one she wasn't going to sell.

_"And don't do anything stupid. Some things aren't as they seem." _The voice echoed.

"I'm sorry Philip," She muttered dryly. "But being stupid is kinda my thing."

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	5. Chapter 5: troubled waters

The dark cold sky was beginning to show the first light of dawn, but the birds didn't sing. Time didn't stand still, and never would, not for any man or woman.

But still... Anyone with a heart or brain was holding their breath, waiting in suspense for that moment that would change their future. It wasn't conscious. It wasn't even noticed by most. It was one of those things you only realised you were doing when it was over.

Something was happening.

The guard at the gate shifted uneasily, his mail clinking when he scanned the darkness for any sign of life. Nothing. He almost wished someone would attack him and end the suspense.

It seemed to be eternity before it was time for his shift to end. He was tired, and and annoyed. Why did some bastard decide to cause this much trouble by killing a guest on this day? Why not tomorrow, and then he could rest a little.

No doubt he would be assigned with twice his usual work in the morning.

He yawned.

Was it his pure bad luck? Or just perfect timing?

The moment was chosen for a small figure in black to slip past him, out into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Trying to catch at least an hour of sleep before he rose at dawn was almost impossible. As soon as he had lay down, all of his fatigue was gone and he just wanted some action. Graham punched his hard pillow, annoyed.<p>

And then, after a long time something happened.

He had been dozing uneasily, his dreams strange and confusing, and then unexpectedly they changed.

_He was outside in his dream, which wasn't really surprising, because that was his usual place to wander in spare time. Anywhere alone._

_It was dark and the air was cool and silent. Silent of any living creature, not even a bird sang. It felt very familiar._

_He was hurrying towards the gate, slipping in and out of the shadows, a pack on his back and a knife at his belt. For some strange reason he was doing his best to avoid guards at all costs. That was a little funny, seeing as he was one himself._

_And then he glanced up to a window on the castle wall, it was his own room._

_It was like he was saying goodbye._

_And then the window lit up, and a figure stood by the window, looking in his direction._

_"I'm sorry Graham." He said, turning away. It wasn't his voice. It was a higher, softer voice. And it was familiar._

_It was... It was..._

"Emma...?" Graham leapt up, groaning as he clutched his head.

He lighted the bedside lamp, his heart beating like a drum.

He was scanning the courtyard from his window, looking at the exact place he was moments before standing in his dream. It was too dark to see anything for sure, but if he was right, then he thought he saw a flash of movement.

It wasn't until just then that he realised. He had done everything he had already seen himself do from Emma's eyes.

He swore inwardly, trying to make some sense out of it.

Even though he had always doubted it, perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps there really were gods after all.

The question was... Were they on his side?

Or maybe this was something else. Magic. It had hardly been used for years, not even Rumpelstiltskin casted a spell a spell to light a candle these days.

Of course, some still used it... But usually only for dark means. Graham had tried to keep it from happening as much as possible. This hadn't felt dark, it was something else. He had seen the future, if only for a moment.

Why did he go back to bed, letting her get away?

_Why did he go back to bed, letting her get away?_

He was shown her leaving so he didn't go after her. Because she had to go.

He could pass it off as a strange coincidence. But... He was never the type to do such things, because what would be the fun in that?

He was going to be in so much trouble when the King and Queen heard.

If he could actually bring himself to tell them.

* * *

><p>The princess stumbled through the darkness, her heart pounding like a drum. Icy wind whipping at her face. She could hear the sea, hissing and crashing against the cliffs. The night was still and cold her breath made a steamy cloud.<p>

She paused to look back at the castle. It seemed nobody had noticed her disappearance yet. That should have made her feel happy, but instead a part of her wished someone had, so they could find her and drag her back home, preventing her from perhaps making the biggest mistake of her life.

But nobody came to find her. They slept peacefully, unaware of what the dawn would bring them.

She was alone.

Emma wished Graham was there, he would know what to say to her, he seemed to always know how to make her feel better. How could she do this to him? To her family? Her eyes began to sting and she felt a lump in her throat as she took one last look at her home.

The faintest hints of dawn were beginning to touch the sky. Soon the sun would be up and the castle would be bathed in soft light. When she was a child she used to get up just before dawn and run outside, just to watch it rise.

Emma turned away.

She didn't look back after that, only ahead.

The docks were often one of the busiest places in the kingdom, always filled with excited newcomers, locals selling goods and squawking seagulls. It was full of life. The sun was just climbing above the horizon as Emma weaved through the crowds of bustling people. A few fisherman gave her wary glances muttering to each other.

Emma quickened her pace, she couldn't have them recognising her. Any moment now someone was going to notice her missing. There were probably search parties out looking for her already.

It was hard to get a ship to take her, none of them wanted a woman on board. Big surprise.

Emma growled, marching away from a particularly rude mannered captain.

Then she noticed there was a merchant's ship about to leave the harbour. It looked a little more promising.

The captain was a tall man in his late thirties, with brown hair streaked with grey tied back in a short pony tail. Obviously a foreigner. He barked orders to his men as they hurried around preparing the ship to sail.

Emma took her hood off as she approached him, trying too look authoritative. It took a little while and a lot of her bounty to convince him, but she got there in the end. The plan was that he was going to drop her off close to where Philip lived. She would find other means of transport once she arrived. There was going to be a long trip over solid land too. He accepted her hefty payment of gold rings and jewelled necklaces grudgingly, but she could see his eyes gleam. She knew he was thinking of what else she had in that bag.

She had better keep a close eye on her belongings. He was not someone she wanted to cross.

She added him to her long list.

Right now she had to worry about being found by her family, not a complete stranger after her gold, she could handle him later.

She was lucky that the ship left twenty minutes later, so there wasn't any immediate discovery of her escape.

She was escorted to her room by one of the sailors, who was constantly muttering under his breath about god-knows-what, but it was probably rude. She didn't try to make conversation, only bowed her head and tried to look small and scared. It was a trick, and a clever one. People were naturally less likely to be suspicious of woman if they were stupid and afraid of anything and everything.

Idiots.

Apparently she was going to travel in the hold, with the stores. When she stepped into the dark room, the door was slammed shut behind her. The first thing she noticed was the smell. She scrunched her nose. It was old fish and something sour. And then her eyes adjusted and she noticed the suspiciously greasy looking hammock that was slung up by the barrels.

There was a bag of food she supposed was meant for her, as she was told "not to damn touch" the barrels. It could then only be one thing. Her lunch. The loaf of bread were mouldy and the once fresh delicious bags of apples were brown and wrinkly, everything looked well past its time. Emma sighed, she would have to get used to not being waited on hand and foot.

She didn't sleep much that night, afraid of what it might bring her. Or the next night... It was a difficult trip. When she wasn't having nightmares and thinking of different way to kill Hook. The sway of the ship got to her, and she throwing up any small meals she had managed to swallow.

Dark thoughts always were roaming through her head. Could she really kill a man?

And then... Came the real question, could she forgive herself if she did?

She would wake up every night, drenched in sweat and cold to the bone. It didn't get better when she was awake, just more bearable.

That evil bastard...

She promised herself not to cry, at least not until she finished what was started.

She often had to remind herself of that promise.

Finally she couldn't stand being in the dark hold any more. She rolled out of her hammock, her breathing uneven. After fumbling with her jacket, she straightened up and tugged at a couple of strands of tangled hair, she really should have brought a comb.

No... She lifted her chin. She was no longer princess Emma, the naive girl who was untouched by grief and sorrow... Innocent and gullible. The Emma who had loved.

She paused in her train of thought, her brow wrinkled. Who was this new woman who had taken over her body? Certainly a stranger. Her moves were now wild and unpredictable. Who was she?  
>She didn't even know anymore...<p>

That scared her.

She shrugged it off, and abandoned her attempt to look reasonable, if it grew too untidy, she could always cut it off.

When she stepped onto the scrubbed deck of the ship, out of the darkness she had grown accustomed to, she had to pretend that the light of day wasn't hurting her eyes. The crew all gave her sidelong glances, muttering to each other.

It was the crack of dawn, dark cold and wet, the fine mist soaking everything. It seemed like heaven compared to her dirty uncomfortable hammock. She breathed in the salty air, watching the sea through the shroud.

Was she making a mistake?

There was that familiar hollow ache in her chest. The feeling of loss. She would never see him again, soon the image of him in her mind would begin to fade, and she would have nothing left. Nothing but a broken heart and the thought of revenge.

It was easier to just not feel at all, easier to shut out her emotions and let something calm and deadly steal over her. She tried not to let that happen because it scared her...

The waves were crashing against the ship in a familiar rhythm. It was the sound she heard night and day for four days. The sea had not calmed, the waves roared in the night, often succeeding to toss her out of her hammock.

Sometimes it sounded more like a voice whispering from the darkest depths of the ocean, she blamed it on lack of sleep and food. There was once a time when the sound of the sea was a calming beautiful sound, but right now it only reminded her of what was to come. She thought about before any of this happened and it seemed like an eternity ago.

A man pushed past her, elbowing her in the stomach. "Out of my way scum."

"What did you just call me?" Emma snarled, her anger sparked.

He was a large man in his forties with a red nose and yellow sharp looking teeth. "Scum that's what I called you..."

Emma clenched her fists, feeling her fingernails dig into her palm. She forced herself to walk away, over to where some sailors were hauling in a load of fish. She felt sick. It was hard not being the boss. It was hard to ignore him, it was hard to keep from crying...

Because it was easy to believe him.

This was all her fault, she was stupid and headstrong. She was probably going to die. What did she care if she had an early grave? She cared that he knew that she would break easily. He knew she was going to fall for his trap.

She spun around.

Then she was punching him as hard as she could.

It definitely helped to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

He eyes were momentarily glazed over, and he looked stunned. He recovered faster than she expected. It must have been the sea air. A few seconds later they had cleared up. And he looked angrier than ever. "How dare you!" he raised his fist, advancing forwards.

She noted offhandedly that he was a least five inches taller than her.

"That's enough of that." The captain was behind her suddenly. "I will not tolerate this aboard my ship."

"He insulted me!" Emma spat.

"You will address me as "Captain" and with respect, If you know what's good for you."

The large man she had punched grinned at her, in way that of course was easy to mistake for a wince of pain. "Unnatural, it is... A woman travelling alone, I knew she was trouble as soon as she set foot on this ship. And now look at what's happened, she attacked me!" He rubbed his cheek, hissing.

"I'm warning you... I don't like liars." Emma said icily.

A hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled, yanking her head back. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The captain spat, his anger was likely an act. He was probably happy for entertainment from his usually boring crew.

"He deserved it."

There was a sharp tug on her hair, and she tried not to wince. "If you apologise to him then we can forget that it ever happened." The captain stated.

"Apologise to him? Emma hissed. "I don't think so. I don't like making enemies... But when I do, I will not forgive or show mercy." She grinned. "I'm currently seeking out the most recent devil. I'm going to kill him."

There was a short silence...

"Good luck with finding someone who is going to help a little witch like you. There wont be anyone stupid enough to here." She heard a chuckle. "And to make things more interesting, I'm throwing you off right now."

"You wouldn't dare."

* * *

><p>She was wrong. He did dare.<p>

They were throwing her off the ship. Literally.

The ship was close to land, where they were stopping for supplies in a small town on the coast. She learnt this not from having the privileged of being told, but from the privilege of having eavesdropping skills. Which she put to use often in the castle.

The Captain and his crew could kick her off when the stopped at the docks, and that way she could find someone else to take her, though it would be a waste of money and she would need to use her manners a little more. But of course they couldn't be kind and just let her go. Oh no.

First they took all of her possession, then they decided to face her with a challenge that the captain had apparently done in his youth.

Maybe next time she should take a moment to think things through before opening her mouth. Or accidentally punching people who happened to insult her. Vaguely she remembered the incident with Hook. Except that one time... she wouldn't change a thing.

They tied ropes around her ankles and wrists, tightly enough to burn. They loosened her ankles after some debate, or it would be called plain murder. Then they found the blunt most chipped and rusted fish scaling knife she had ever seen, and put the handle between her teeth.

"Look on the bright side, at least we are giving you a chance." The captain whispered in her ear, all the while looking absolutely delighted. "And if you do manage to get free, then I don't envy the poor soul who is going to have to deal with you."

"Mmmm..." Was all Emma could say.

Two of the crew lifted a struggling Emma up.

A seconds later she was flying through open space.

How did she manage to get into this position... Again?

That was definitely a story for another time. When she wasn't so occupied.

She hit the icy cold water.

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	6. Chapter 6: count to ten

**Chapter 7: Hold your breath and count to ten**

* * *

><p>Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she just gave up?<p>

Everything would be so much easier if she stopped struggling and went with the tides, letting the ocean take her. She would drift through the sea like a ghost, die trying to take back what she had lost when she was doomed to fail. She would ever get him back.

Not in this lifetime.

She had always spent long spaces of time underwater, and her lungs were used to the lack of air... so she would have to pay with a slow death.

She counted the things she was going to miss when she died. She counted the things she had always put aside, thinking she had plenty of time to do, but now never could. She counted the years she was blessed with, and the ones that she was losing,

Only one thing made her open her eyes and want to survive.

Belle's child... She would never meet him.

If fate had brought her here to drown, then it was going to be changed. She wasn't just words on a page, ready to be manipulated at the will of strangers, gods or not... They were still strangers to her. She controlled her own life, and was going to love again.

Surprisingly the knife was still between her teeth, and though it was going to hard to escape death when she was so close, it wasn't impossible. It had been done before, if she could believe those damned fishermen... At least they had the grace to give her "chance", though it was small. She wasn't angry at the sailors, she pitied them. They were human, and they were afraid, and what do humans do when they're afraid? They try to get rid of the danger.

But they had given her a chance, and by doing that they had saved her life. A chance was more than Philip had.

A ray of sunlight shone through the water, making it sparkle and glitter above her.

She forgave them.

The ropes were thick and swollen... In any other circumstance she would probably give up after failing to cut even the first layer. But these ropes had been rotting for years on-board that smelly ship, so she for once got lucky.

* * *

><p>When Emma broke the surface of the choppy water, she was gasping and coughing for air. Weakly she tried to stay above while the tumbling waves tried to force her down again. She needed to get to dry land before her body decided to give up.<p>

While underwater she had somehow drifted closer to the island, where they were going to stop by... before she was thrown off.

There was the familiar smell of fish in the air, but also the scent of freshly baked bread had drifted over the expanse of water. Several fishing boats were anchored around her, and seagulls screeched and flapped around searching for scraps in the distance,

Emma still clutched the fish scaling knife in her hand. It was a poor weapon, but it was a weapon nonetheless. She bit into the handle and began the hard swim for land.

She found herself counting her breathing as she swam.

In. Out. In. Out.

One. two. Three. Four...

_She was going to make it... she was going to make it...she was going to make it..._

Hours or days past by.

Or was it just minutes?

Finally her feet touched soft sand and shells. She almost collapsed and let the tide wash onto the shore. Instead she gritted her teeth and walked the rest of the way.

* * *

><p>"Emma..." The Queen stood outside her daughters door the same morning Emma left. It was early, before anyone else except the servants were up. She held a tray balanced in her hand, her hand poised to knock. There were more grey streaks in her hair than usual. "Emma, I've brought you breakfast... I know you don't want to eat, but please just try... Do that for me, and you don't have to come out today. You can stay in bed."<p>

There was silence.

The Queen sighed. The teacups clinked as she carefully placed the tray down.

Snow sat down too, her back against the door and her voice soft and low. She wasn't the Queen just then, she was Emma's mother. "You loved him didn't you?" She closed her eyes, feeling sick. "You loved him and then he left you."

She paused, drifting off to possible futures that were now lost. "I can't imagine what I would do if... If I were you." She thought about it for a moment, her lips pursed and her eyes shining. "I would probably hunt the killer down and end his life right then..." She said with a spark of rage.

And then realisation struck her.

_No..._

"Oh Emma, " She stood up, her face chalky. _"What are you doing?"_

But the queen already knew. Emma was too much like her mother than it was good for her. Far too much.

_Whatever you do Emma, don't kill him. It will ruin you for the rest of your life. Don't do it._

* * *

><p>"Don't do it."<p>

Emma paused, a orange fruit in her hand.

A little boy was standing a couple of paces away from Emma. He was frowning and pointing at the fruit she was holding.

After had rested on the beach for a few minutes, she had wandered the village, too weary to notice the unfamiliar people and their strange home. The hours had passed slowly, and the shadow had lengthened. Soon darkness would fall completely, she needed food and shelter. After failing to swap her knife for a loaf of bread, she had come across a tree which was loaded with ripe fruit. It was dropping off before her eyes into the long grass, but nobody touched it. It wasn't near anybodies house, so she had assumed that it was a local tree. It couldn't hurt to take one or two.

"I'm telling you, you don't want to do that." He seemed smug.

"Why?" She arched an eyebrow, and then pocketed the fruit. "Do you know who owns it?"

The little boy smirked. "Nobody. It's poisonous."

"Oh?" Just her luck, saved from one disaster, only to stumble across another. "Well thank you. I believe you just saved my life." She smiled to him and turned away. What now? She had a couple of choices. She could find someone who recognised her as Princess Emma, and was willing to take her home for a reward... She could find a job to do at this place, and then live out the rest of her life here. Or she could beg borrow and steal her way to Hook and then kill him.

She was liking the latter the most.

"Why do I feel like you don't think it's a big deal?" He had followed her. "Me saving your life I mean..."

She didn't look down, but she knew he was struggling to keep pace with her long stride. "Well _isn't _really a big deal..." She drifted off as she came into the village centre. There was a fountain, where women were filling buckets of fresh clear water, they did it quickly before the dimming light disappeared.

She was thirsty.

"... Not that your warning wasn't appreciated." Emma added, she knelt by the large stone basin of running water. Of course she earned a few funny looks from the people there, but that was nothing compared to what she had been through the past week. After drinking the wonderful cold liquid greedily, she wiped her chin with her already wet sleeve. She sure was a mess, and it was getting cold. A pity she had lost her cloak along with all her gold and jewels.

"Why are you still here?" She frowned at the child who was watching her curiously. "If you are expecting payment... Then you are going to be disappointed. I own nothing save the ruined clothing on my back. I wager you wont want them anyway... They smell like fish."

There was a short pause, and then the boy moved forwards. "I only want to know why you still have the poisonous fruit in your pocket. Anyone with half a mind would throw it as far away as possible. One bite and you die within minutes. Anyone... " His eyes gleamed. "...But you. So why do you keep it?"

"Were you ever taught to mind your own business?" Emma did't need to fake the annoyance in her voice.

He smiled. "Were _you _ever taught to repay favours, especially ones as important as this?"

Emma frowned, crossing her arms. She would tell him anything just to make him leave her alone. "I kept it because sometime ago I came to the conclusion that I might want to eat it if I get into a _really_ tight situation." She sighed. "I'm guessing it would be quicker than drowning after being literally thrown off a ship, with both my arms and legs bound. Only a blunt fish scaling knife to keep me company."

That managed to silence him momentarily.

"Excuse me... But may I ask you to move out of the way a little?" Emma didn't look up at the voice, just nodded tiredly and stood up, letting him past her to the fountain. She glanced round and realised that the crowd of women were leaving, lugging their buckets of water along. The square was almost empty now, and the air was chilly. The moon gave Emma enough light to see by. "Off you go then." She grumbled to the boy. "I've had enough of your pestering... I think you should go home to your mother now." She was uncomfortably itchy and cold in her damp salty clothing. "There are some better things I could be doing with my time anyway." Like finding food.

"So that's why you're all wet...you went for a little swim in the ocean." He clucked his tongue at her and then ran off, disappearing into the crowd of people. Probably cutting every purse in sight, at least he cant have robbed Emma when she had nothing of value.

And then she remembered something... She did! She still wore her ruby and gold pendant under her tunic. Nobody had thought to search there when they were taking her things. Maybe she wouldn't starve after all!

She turned back to the fountain smiling to herself, and then came face to face with Hook.

_Well it took long enough... _But why wasn't he running? Surely he expected a troop of soldiers to appear behind her, but then again... He must have guessed from her clothing that she was alone. No princess should be allowed to look like she did just then.

To any passers by that were watching, it wasn't comfortable or pleasant situation. A cat screeched somewhere in the street, and the moon came out from behind a cloud.

"Emma?" He definitely looked shocked, but he was missing the expression she wanted to see the most on his face. Pain."What are you doing here?... _And what are you wearing?_" He was holding a full waterskin in his left- no... his only hand. He must have been the man who wanted to get past her.

Typical, she risked her life to find him, and then when she finally did have the chance... she almost missed it.

Her first reaction was to close her mouth. And then she dug into her pocket and puled out the fruit. It was a long, with soft orange flesh and black speckles. She silently held it out to him.

_Eat._

She was only slightly disappointed when he shook his head, looking confused. Of course he wasn't going to accept... But that was good thing, she wanted him to die slowly, poison would end in minutes. She wanted it to last for days.

Calmly she pocketed the fruit, and took something else out instead. Something worth much more than the bread she had attempted to trade it for...

And then she stabbed him in the leg.

He doubled over in pain. "Well... I should have known..." He groaned and dropped the heavy leather waterskin on the dirt with a thud. "...That you wouldn't exactly be friendly after our last encounter."

Emma sneered and lunged for him, the knife raised yet again.

He ducked. "... But still, you could have at least graced me... with a hello."

"Hello Hook..." She growled. "killed anyone recently? Or have you decided to take a break, just until everything settles down?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Forgotten already?" She managed the kick him in the shin. "It was less than a week ago."

"Forgotten _what?" _Obviously he was beginning to get annoyed now. Or maybe the pain of his wound only just kicked in.

"_KILLING HIM!_ I _saw_ you do it... there's no point in keeping up the act." It suddenly all felt real. This was no longer the nightmare she had pretended she was going to wake from. This was real. Philip was dead, and it was too late to wake up now. "Murderer!" It was all too real.

She had the dagger at his throat now, and the only thing that was stopping her from ending his life right then... was his hook.

_"Who did you see me kill?"_ He whispered.

"Philip!" She snapped at him, still trying to get the knife past his metal hand.

.It didn't work.

He twisted the knife out of her hand and got both of her arms behind her back within seconds. She couldn't see him, and she couldn't break free, but she still kicked and screamed.

_"Sorry about this..."_ She heard him say.

There was a sharp pain on her head. And then everything went black.

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